


Sweet On Cartman

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Crack Relationships, Feeding Kink, Food Kink, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1857855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Randy Marsh has found something...or rather, someone...new to obsess over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"But MOMMM!"

Those were the words that echoed through the long hallways of the Cartman residence on that fateful Monday afternoon. Liane had caught a cold, and she was in bed. And her son was rather distraught. "I'm sorry, poopsiekins, I can't cook for you. The doctor said I should rest."

"Mommm..I need mah desserts! I'm a growing boy!"

Angrily, Eric stomped out of the bedroom before his mother could reply. He had to find somebody else to cook for him. Someone who would listen to him. Someone who enjoyed cooking...

Suddenly, a thought struck his mind as he rushed out the door as fast as his thick little legs could carry him. He knew exactly who he needed.

Randy Marsh stood in front of the stove. Sprinkling the tiniest amount of mint, he seasoned his mid-day omelette perfectly and precisely. Hearing the door click, he turned around. "Stan! Are you home from football practice already?"

"I'm not Stan, you semen-puking asshole dickhead."

"Oh, you're that little fat kid that Stan hangs out with."

Eric sighed. "Do I have to fucking tell everyone this? I'm big-boned!"

Randy looked at the boy for a moment, then returned to his savory snack.

"So...Randy," Cartman mused, "I heard through the grapevine that you enjoy cooking."

"I don't enjoy cooking. Cooking is my PASSION."

Cartman grinned mischievously. This was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Do you happen to, oh, I don't know, make...desserts?"

Randy, not missing a beat, swiveled around. "Are you kidding me? I don't merely make desserts. I craft them, with incredible artisan skill."

"May I try one of these legendary treats?"

Randy simply pointed to a stack of containers. Curiously, Cartman toddled towards them, wondering what was inside. Pulling back the lid of the closest bowl, he stared at the beautiful, delicious cupcakes inside. Not hesitating at all, he stripped the wrapper off of one and popped the whole thing into his mouth. Looking over at the boy who was so enjoying his food, Randy knew that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

As soon as Cartman had eaten every dessert in the containers, he walked out the door, barely mumbling a "goodbye."

The next day, when Liane still wasn't well enough to cook, Cartman headed right over to the Marshes' house. As soon as he got in the door, Randy was standing in the hall, dressed like Willy Wonka.

"The fuck?"

"I made you a little snack..." Randy coaxed the chubby boy into the kitchen. Right there, waiting on the table like a naked lover, was the biggest, most beautiful cake that he had ever seen.

"Is-is this for me?" Cartman was incredibly shocked.

"Oh yes...it's all yours." Randy smirked, looking at Cartman's adorably round face as as grin split across it.

Cartman attacked the cake, aggressively swallowing down every bit. In a mere fifteen minutes, he had put away an entire cake. Now stretched out on the floor, he sighed, "Sweet..."

Randy looked at him. He was so round, and no doubt about it, he was full. Randy longed to squeeze him. And that's exactly what he did. Picking up the boy in his arms, he held him around his thick waist and hooked his chin over his shoulder. "You are adorable. You are fucking adorable and I want you to eat my desserts forever."

"Sweet."

On Wednesday, as soon as school let out, Cartman rushed over to the Marsh house. Panting as he reached the doorstep, he collapsed, ringing the doorbell as he went down. Randy, who had frosting in his mustache, opened the door wide. Looking around, he cried out, "Hey, hey Sharon! Did you ring the doorbell?"

Getting no reply, he almost closed the door before Eric got up on his knees and grabbed onto Randy's pants, pulling them down around his ankles. Awkwardly looking down, Randy blushed. "What the hell?"

"Whoops. Heh-heh." Cartman looked up towards Randy.

Just then, Stan came up behind the two. "Cartman, why the hell are you blowing my dad?"

Randy blinked. "Son, it's not what it looks like."

"Dad...I-I don't want to know." With that, the logical preteen walked off, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to forget what he just saw.

Cartman stood up and skipped into the house. "So what's my snack today?"

Randy grinned at him. "Oh...I've made you something very, very special."

Following him into the kitchen, Cartman couldn't help but wonder how Randy planned to top the fantastic cake from yesterday. A ten-foot-wide pie? No, that was ridiculous. A poptart with sprinkles made from the dried blood of his enemies? Randy wouldn't dare. "So what is it?"

Randy glanced at the boy and smiled knowingly. Motioning towards a box, he simply offered, "See for yourself."

Cartman wandered over to the table, climbing on top and lifting off the lid. The sides collapsed to reveal a huge cinnamon roll. After looking closer, he discovered it wasn't cinnamon that filled the crevices of the delifghtful pastry, but crushed cheesy poofs. "You didn't."

"Oh, I did," Randy winked.

Instatntly, Eric ravenously shoved a piece of the roll into his mouth. The flavor was amazing. "Ugh...you're the best cook ever, Mr. Marsh."

Grinning, Randy replied, "I know, I know."

When he finally finished the dessert, Cartman was totally stuffed. "I'm so fucking full..." he breathed.

Randy scooped him up and carried him into the living room. Plunking down on the couch, he situated Eric in his lap. "You want me to rub your tummy?"

"Y-yes..."

Randy gently caressed Eric's stomach as the young boy let out a few moans. "Don't stop..." He shut his eyes, smiling as he fell asleep in Randy's lap. Right before he drifted off, almost in a whisper, he let Randy know exactly how he felt about his cooking.

"Sweet..."


	2. Chapter 2

After that incident with the cinnamon roll, Randy had developed a borderline sexual obsession with Eric. It was hard to explain why, but the softness of his curves, the way his body felt when Randy was holding him...it was angelically beautiful. And even though Randy knew it was wrong, he wanted Eric all to himself. If given the chance, Randy would tear Eric's clothes off and love up on him. His adorable, cushiony stomach looked incredibly sexy, and his lips were so soft, so thick...

Eric Cartman was everything that Sharon Marsh wasn't. And Randy wanted him.

On Mondays, Sharon's shift ran until 10 pm. Randy figured that a Monday would be the perfect time to seduce his dreamboy. All he had to do was spike Eric's food with vodka to get him nice and drunk.

Sadly, Randy was so goddamn stupid, he didn't even know that alcohol cooked out of food. What a dumbass...

Anyway, Randy baked a huge chocolate chipotle chicken pot pie. He set it on the table, a fork on one side and a knife on the other. He set a two-liter bottle of mountain dew next to the entree, and then proceeded to take off his pants and shirt, leaving only his apron and underwear on. Just then, he heard a distinct knock at the front door.

"Coming!"

And in more ways than one, if he got his way...

Eric walked in, tossing his hat on the floor. "Oh god...today was fucking WEAK. We had to take this retarded test in gym class, and..."

Randy cut him off. "Whoa...that must have been exhausting. How about a little something to fuel you up?"

"Sweet. What'd ya make for me today?"

"Your favorite..."

Randy stepped to the side and let Cartman see the table. His eyes grew wide as he saw his snack. Immediately, he scrambled into the kitchen to eat. Randy sat across from him and watched as he ate every bite of the quirky dish. Eric was so ridiculously beautiful. His big, amber eyes glowed as the flavors mixed together in his mouth. Locks of his copper-brown hair dangled in his face. Randy just wanted to tackle him and rip his clothing off...

As Eric lazily tipped back the bottle of Mountain Dew to sip the last few drops, Randy was mesmerized by the boy's ability to eat an entire meal and drink two liters of soda in twenty minutes. "Geez, kid...slow it down...you're giving me a boner."

"Ex...cuse me?!" Cartman squealed, shocked at what he just heard.

"God-goddamnit! I didn't mean to say that out loud!"

"Do...do you have a thing for me?" Cartman's brow furrowed.

"Well, it's not like I'm cooking for you just cause I can. Eric...you know...my wife's always busy now, and I need something apart from porn to keep me excited. Do you know what I mean?"

"Well, yeah, but why ME?"

Randy smiled and leaned across the table, towards Cartman. "Oh, a lot of reasons. You're charismatic, ambitious, sexy..." Randy casually fondled Cartman's breasts as he muttered that last adjective, "and you eat anything I put in front of you." By this time, Randy was lying atop the table, practically moaning in pleasure already.

"You're a young, supple eight year old boy." Randy gave his youthful companion's full stomach a gentle caress.

"Yes I am, oh yes I am, Mr. Marsh..."

Cartman leaned back and spread his legs apart. Randy moved his mouth slowly towards the boy's crotch. "Oh yeah...you want it?"

"You know I want it..."

Randy began to lick at the underside of Cartman's now-exposed stomach. He sucked on the pale flesh for a minute before moving further down.

And then Cartman farted in his face.

"Wh-what was that?"

"I farted. Heh, heh, heh."

"But I was gonna blow you-"

"That's illegal!"

Cartman pulled his pants back up, then grabbed his hat off the ground as he dashed back home.

"COME BACK! I WAS GONNA GET LAID AGAIN, FINALLY..."

Randy sniffed his mustache. It still carried traces of the rancid scent Randy's nostrils had been subjected to just moments ago. And he kind of liked it.

Randy wasn't giving up this quickly.

 

Despite the wholly insane things Randy had tried the day before, Cartman came back to the Marsh residence after school on Tuesday. "Randy... I'm hungry..." he teased, whipping off his coat and corduroys to reveal a sparkly purple g-string and matching pasties.

Randy was instantly randy.

"Oh... I'll feed you something in the kitchen..." he promised with a wink. The two made their way into the room and got situated.

Cartman laid suggestively on the table, fiddling with the tassels on his manboobs and moaning. Randy noticed the tiny bulge in the front of Eric's panties, and grunted, knowing exactly what Eric was moaning about. "Oh, you..."

"Come get some..." Cartman smeared creme fraiche all over his belly, playfully scraping a bit from the top and filling his navel with the condiment.

"You're a dirty boy, Eric..."

"So clean me off..."

Randy ran his tongue first over the area above Cartman's crotch, cleaning off the creme. He grazed his chin over Cartman's tra-la-la before lapping up another bit of the topping. "Oh, fuck yeah..." Randy moaned. He swirled his tongue around Cartman's belly button, then proceeded to finish licking the rest of the creme fraiche.

All but the pool in his navel.

Randy slowly dipped his tongue into the deep, tight pit, sucking out the creme fraiche. Cartman shuddered in pleasure. Randy went in further this time, putting pressure on the bottom of his soft, sensual companion's navel. He stiffened his tongue. Cartman moaned, eyes rolling back. "Oh, please, Randy...pleasure me..."

Randy obeyed.

He peeled the tassels away from Cartman's nipples, which stiffened a bit. Randy slowly circled around them with his tongue. The warm, sticky substance that was his saliva warmed the small, pink nubs. Cartman purred. Randy followed that up by covering the other nipple thoroughly in saliva. As the warmth began to soften the tip, Randy sucked at it.

"God, yes..." Cartman moaned as Randy reached back down to his stomach and caressed his fat rolls.

Randy moaned back. "You're so sexy..."

Randy lowered himself on top of Cartman and stuffed his tongue into the young, supple eight year old boy's mouth. He could taste the KFC leftovers Cartman had eaten for lunch. He knew exactly what he was going to get. He came back up from the kiss.

"Do you want me to...sniff your farts?"

In truth, Randy may as well have put up a craigslist ad entitled 'Lonely, Vaguely Pedophilic Geologist Seeks The Farts Of Children'. He desperately craved Cartman's farts; they were his passion, his new obsession. So of course he was ecstatic when Cartman nodded and spread his legs.

Randy plunged his nose into Cartman's asscheeks and inhaled. He was immensely thankful for Cartman's asscheeks-their pale, flabby mass kept the scent in. "Oh god...that's nice..." Randy screeched, nose working deeper into Cartman's butt.

"You like my ass, don't you, Mr. Marsh?"

"Your farts smell like gravy..."

The sound of high heels clicked in suddenly, approaching Randy and Eric.

Sharon stood in the kitchen doorway. "Randy Marsh, just what are you doing with our son's friend?"


End file.
